


Sit In Judgement

by PridetotheFall



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fade Sex, Oral Sex, PWP, Romance, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Throne Sex, it's just sex, literally there is nothing else going on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 16:35:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4883980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PridetotheFall/pseuds/PridetotheFall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What sin have you committed that earns my judgement, apostate?” she teased. </p>
<p>“Many, though perhaps those I intend to commit will suffice,” he said. His gaze lowered once more and she knew to what sins he referred. Senna hummed, then stood to approach him. The warmth that had settled in her abdomen shifted as she moved. Rather suddenly she felt the wetness at her inner thigh. </p>
<p>“And what intention of yours would be so terrible?” She tilted her chin up, making sure her lips were in range of his own. Solas' eyes lowered and he dipped closer. </p>
<p>“Certainly making love on a throne intended for a divine ruler would be an egregious offense to some,” he explained with a quirked smile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sit In Judgement

**Author's Note:**

> My story for Solas Smut Saturday on tumblr. Enjoy~

She had planned this. Knew what was to come. Yet her heart still thrummed harsh against her chest as she waited. Senna licked her lips and settled back against the high, plush seat of her throne. It was a work of art commissioned by some Orlesian noble Josephine knew was famous for his craftsmanship. The seat and high back were a deep red lined in gold embroidery. Two waiting owls served as the front legs – a request on her part – made of silverite and crafted with wise eyes. She placed her hands on each head, her legs naturally spreading open to accommodate the position. Senna felt a small rush catch her breath; seated here in this place of power, the symbol of the Inquisition's might, completely bare and waiting for him. 

The next part she did not have planned so well. Only a hazy outline they discussed that would lead to mutual satisfaction. So when Senna heard the soft pad of feet against stone she straightened a little in anticipation. Her face flushed, a hum of approval in the back of her throat, as Solas came down the main hall and mounted the two steps to the dais. 

It showed the difference between them, she supposed, that she came in bare and ready. She took a sort of confidence from her nakedness. Her pride showed in her stance and the openness of the whole scene. Solas, however, knew to work in subtlety, knew to titillate, to try patience in the face of pleasure. He wore nothing save a wolf's pelt slung over one shoulder like a sash and tied at the hip. It teased the way her eyes roved his flesh, catching on the edges of the pelt in an appreciation not quite satisfied. His wrists were bound together, wrapped loose with leather cords in a pattern that circled his wrists, over his palms, and around each finger. 

“Well,” Senna said, voice low. She had not expected this and the heightened anticipation simmered in her core. She relaxed, leaned back again to prop her cheek on the knuckles of one hand, the other falling to her thigh. “Are you on trial?”

Solas, who had been admiring her in detail, snapped his attention back to her eyes. A small smile tugged at his lip. “That would be to your discretion.” 

“What sin have you committed that earns my judgement, apostate?” she teased. 

“Many, though perhaps those I intend to commit will suffice,” he said. His gaze lowered once more and she knew to what sins he referred. Senna hummed, then stood to approach him. The warmth that had settled in her abdomen shifted as she moved. Rather suddenly she felt the wetness at her inner thigh. 

“And what intention of yours would be so terrible?” She tilted her chin up, making sure her lips were in range of his own. Solas' eyes lowered and he dipped closer. 

“Certainly making love on a throne intended for a divine ruler would be an egregious offense to some,” he explained with a quirked smile. 

Senna laughed. “I'm sure it would. Though I would give no punishment for it.”

“A pity.” Yet he still had not kissed her. She licked her lips. Solas watched with careful focus in those blue grey eyes. Senna startled when his fingertips smoothed up her thigh and hip, the leather cords adding another layer of sensation. 

He was not the only one that could play games. Senna reached for the tie of the pelt, her nails scraping against his flesh on her way to her goal. He rewarded her with a shuddered gasp, though she wasn't allowed to go further as he repaid the action with a gentle swipe of his fingers against her lower lips. She tensed. Her mouth fell open and he took the chance to claim it. All thought of removing the pelt was abandoned. Instead she hooked her fingers in the fur to ground herself. Her other hand came around his back, pressing muscle and drawing him in.

His hot breath touched her lips between movements of his tongue. She responded in kind, tasting and curling against him until she almost forgot the rest of her intent. Solas brought it back to the fore when his fingers slid against her again. This time one dipped between the folds to tease her clit and test the wetness gathered. She gave him a moan of appreciation and he swallowed it with another needy kiss. 

Eventually she left his lips, nearly dizzy with his taste, to nibble at his jaw. His hand still worked at her clit in slow, even circles. Enough to arouse her but little more. The cords holding him strained tight as his free hand gripped her hip. Solas tried to nudge her back towards the throne but she held fast. 

“Vhenan,” he pleaded. Senna smiled, laved another open kiss on his neck, and brought her hands to his waist. She slid up his chest, under the pelt, dragging it with her hands. She flicked her thumbs over his nipples, feeling them harden under her touch, and Solas grunted as he resisted the moan in his throat. He had always been far more sensitive to the feel of skin on skin than her. She pulled back, Solas' hand falling from her core, and pushed the pelt over his head. The cords around his hands caught in the pelt but Senna easily separated them. The pelt fell to the floor, though she let the bonds remain in place. She might have a use for them. 

Solas, meanwhile, brought his hands to his face so he could pull the one finger dripping with her juices into his mouth. His eyes did not waver from hers.

“Sit down,” he commanded. Senna flushed, forgot that he was captive to her, and stepped back once, twice, until the back of her legs hit the edge of her throne. She took the seat, breath quickening as Solas approached with dark and steady eyes to kneel before her. He nudged between her legs and she sighed as the cold air touched on her open folds. 

As always, Solas took his time. He began with another kiss, wanton and sensual, as his hands took to her chest. The rough leather rubbed her skin till she was sensitive to the touch. When he was satisfied, Solas moved his mouth to her neck and collar, letting his teeth drag on the tender skin until Senna moaned for him. Then his attention dropped to her chest, his mouth taking up teasing her nipple with firm flicks of the tongue and gentle nibbles. His hands settled at her lower leg. He caressed her calf with his knuckles and pulled on her ankle when he needed her to scoot forward. When he left her chest, traveling further down with kisses aiming to the place Senna had been waiting for, he bid her to hook one leg over his shoulder. 

She shuddered. Her grip on the arms of her throne squeezed tighter. Solas looked up at her from between her open legs. His warm breath touched on her most sensitive area and stirred the tuft of hair there. The anticipation built in her core. Her eyes fluttered close for a bare moment. 

It felt as if they hung there forever, watching one another in desire, his mouth so close to touching her. Finally he moved in. Senna knew if she broke eye contact he would divert and hold her on the edge even longer. So she saw his tongue push between her folds to lick all the way up the length of her, the appendage curling to catch on the lid before retreating. Her head snapped back, nails digging into silverite, a low cry passing between parted lips. Solas tasted her a second time, the warmth and wet of his tongue juxtaposed against her own juices to increase her pleasure. 

Senna thought he might have a difficult time with his hands bound, loosely as it was. But Solas easily worked around it. His hands curled under her to cup her ass as his thumbs spread her open to give him better access. In that way, he worked his tongue and teeth against her, sometimes taking in all of her or nibbling her clit or circling her entrance before plunging deep in. There was no pattern, most likely meant to keep her on edge as long as possible by never giving too much attention to one area. Senna began to shake. The pressure pushed inside her core, undulating with each unexpected move from Solas. She kept pressing the edge of her release. Every time she thought she might topple over, the wave would press her to the top but fall short of crashing. Instead it would pull back, pulsing deep as Solas pushed her towards the height again. 

“Ma lath,” she groaned, desperation on her lips. It was always like this with him. He was never content to bring her to a quick orgasm. He liked to draw it out to see how long he could keep her on the edge until she begged him to finish, though he sometimes didn't listen. This was one of those times. Solas kept his controlled pace until she was shuddering and clenching so hard she barely knew the difference when she did cum. It was a low thrum through every fiber of her being rather than an explosive high. And it kept humming under her skin. Senna moaned, her heel digging into her lover's back when she didn't come down easily. 

“S-Solas.” Senna pressed her foot against his shoulder to get him to relent. He did so reluctantly. The torchlight reflected in his eyes as he gazed up at her. Senna smiled. She leaned down to kiss him, her taste strong on his tongue, and pulled on those cords to get him to stand with her. They broke apart so she could guide him into sitting down. His brow quirked, an amused smile on the edge of his lips, when Senna didn't let go of his bonds. Her fingers tangled into the leather to keep her grip strong. She pressed her hand against the high back of the throne to steady herself when she slid her legs in next to his, hovering over him. Solas licked his lips, his arms held over his head. Senna tilted her head, admiring the view. 

“I rather like you like this,” she said. 

“Do you now?” 

“I'm usually the one at your mercy. It's nice to be in control.” With that she reached low between her legs to grip his shaft. He startled, a low 'ah!' falling from his lips as his arms jerked against their bonds. Senna held firm. “See?”

He panted as she pumped her hand up his cock. One eye squeezed shut when he looked up at her face. “You always have control.” 

Senna stilled for a moment, then smiled. “I know,” she assured him. He had never done anything against her will, but the worry flashed in his eyes. Always so afraid of causing harm. Senna leaned to take his lips again, love on her tongue. Solas responded in kind as his shoulders sagged with relief. They tensed a second later as Senna guided his tip to her entrance, her thumb soothing his skin. “Although, now I get to do this.”

Normally he would enter her slow and even, never stretching too much too fast. So when Senna slammed down and engulfed all of him in one stroke she had the pleasure of watching Solas cry out, his head bouncing back against the throne. She moaned as well at the fulness throbbing inside her. Though she was not caught off guard as he was. Senna watched his fingers clench around the cords, watched him pant and close his eyes to try and regain his composure. She thrust down on him before he could. His eyes fluttered and he shook his head. 

“Vhenan, please. I will – unn – finish too soon,” he said between her hurried strokes. He tried to keep his hips from rising to meet hers to no avail. Senna panted, pressure building in her again, and grabbed the top of the throne's back for leverage. She leaned in to his ear, sucked the lobe between her teeth.

“Go ahead,” she said. “Cum for me. This is my throne, after all.”

Solas groaned, tensed, his hips thrusting erratic against her. She felt him press his face to her shoulder and moan again. She answered him in kind, feeling his heat fill her until the excess dripped down onto the seat. They sat like that for some time, chests heaving in to each other. Senna's core throbbed in protest at being left unsatisfied but she ignored it in favor of pressing kisses on Solas' jaw and neck. 

She finally let go of his arms to caress his chest, not knowing that was the wrong thing to do. He immediately brought his arms up to take one of the loose cords in his teeth and with a single tug it all came undone. He let them all drop to the floor, then took Senna's face in both hands to kiss her hard. She gasped, struggling to keep up with the passionate fervor of his mouth. She ended up groaning a moment later as she felt him harden against her warm inner walls. That was fast. 

Solas broke away and pulled out to shift her position. Senna went along with it, moaning in delight when he pulled her back flush against his chest and reentered her. He was already slick with her cum and each thrust slid easy into her abused core. Her fingers found purchase behind his neck, holding onto him with one hand as his own spread her legs open further to allow him in deeper. Senna's other hand gripped the arm of her throne, digging into the expensive metal. 

“This was more what I had in mind,” Solas said with an airy chuckle. Senna arched, her back leaving his embrace, though her ass pressed harder against him. Her new position caused his next thrust to hit on a spot that brought stars popping into her vision.

“Gods, Solas,” she nearly screamed. She was building to her peak faster than ever. Solas let one hand leave her inner thigh to grasp her breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers. He laved his tongue over the back of her neck and shoulder.

“Look,” he said after his next thrust. Senna groaned but did as he asked, trying to focus her hazy vision on the main hall in front of her. The torches were still burning strong over the long tables though the large front doors had been closed for some time. She knew this place, sat here almost every day, and now she would think of this moment every time she sat on this throne. 

“Here you are, bared to all of Skyhold. Is that not what you wanted?” Solas growled, referencing her original request.

“Yes,” she whimpered, then said it again louder as his hips snapped into hers. Her eyes rolled back, tears forming at the edge of her vision. She was so close. So close. “Ah, ahh!”

“Forgive me,” she heard Solas say. All of a sudden it was over. She was tugged out of the moment and shoved back into waking. 

Senna blinked slowly, still caught in the haze of her dream and wishing it were not over. 

“What?” she grunted. She was in her room, in her bed, with the beginnings of dawn peeking into the large doors of the room. Gentle lips pressed the back of her shoulder and Senna turned to look at Solas. He seemed equally unhappy to be awake. 

“I'm sorry. We were attracting unwanted attention,” he explained. 

Senna gave a defeated smile and rolled over to face him fully. She was aching with need, and the wetness between her legs didn't go unnoticed. “Well, we figured as much when we decided to try.”

She gave him another quick kiss. 

“Did you at least enjoy yourself?” he asked. 

“Oh, immensely. Especially that part where you tied yourself up for me,” she said.

His shoulder raised and lowered even as his hand took to wandering over her side. “I thought you might like something different.”

“Mhm, I think I'll tie you up more often.”

He chuckled and drew her into a languid lip lock. “Anything you wish, vhenan.”

“Oh, anything?” she teased. 

His eyes focused on hers. “Anything.”

Senna blinked and tried to find a response. None was forthcoming so she thanked him instead. 

Solas smiled. His fingers wandered back down toward her hip. “In any case, it is still early and a benefit of sleeping together in dream is that you can continue immediately upon waking.”

“Excellent idea,” she purred, shimmying closer. His fingers slipped between her folds and they began again.


End file.
